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Eyes Slow With Sleep - Amanda Magee
I tiptoe in at least twice on either end of their sleep, I weave between three beds wedged in a room more suited to one, with shelves and drawers brimming with flannel and fairy wings on all sides. They sleep as they wake—wide open, tightly curled and impossibly tangled. The moment before I slip my head next to theirs, not knowing whether I’ll meet upturned nose, or ear buried in hair, makes my heart race. Avery falls asleep first each night, her dark hair swims around her, while her body stays in the position it was when she first drifted off to sleep. When I lean in to kiss her she is still, but as I push up from the bed she always turns…